The fluctuating beams of light pierced through Alma’s pale skin. Her blue veins traveled up her arm, through her hand, to the very tip of each finger. They were thin channels, branching off in various directions, small rivers encouraging the flow of Alma’s blood. The tributaries entranced her; she imagined miniature boats floating downstream, little houses perched on the riversides, even tiny human beings lying in tall grass sprouting next to the blue veins.
The light eventually faded from the sky, Alma’s skin losing its translucency. She dropped her hand and dropped to the floor, sprawling out like a starfish.